


To See Through Your Eyes

by DeviatingMyCode



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Injury, Multi, Multi Chapter, Other, Pre-Revolution, Slow Burn, human / android relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 06:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15551748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviatingMyCode/pseuds/DeviatingMyCode
Summary: Fleeing from your past can be hard, but in Detroit; you can be anything. What will Cera decide to be, when she's thrown into a world of Androids, the people who are treated like dirt?(OC x Markus Story requested by a friend of mine)





	To See Through Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh this was a lot longer than I intended to be, but then again, I didn't want it to be super short either so... I'd call that a win? Future chapters will be muuuUUUuuch longer considering all the stuff I'll be throwing into them. Having a lot of fun with it so far though! Enjoy! And if you yourself have a request, don't be shy! You can comment on any one of my fics here or throw me an ask on my tumblr @deviatingmycode ! :D

It was brimming on the edge of Winter in Detroit, Cera could feel the snow in the air. She loved this time of year, the vibrant colours that contrasted the grey skies and gentle winds biting at your cheeks. Autumn was coming to a slow end but that didn't stop the city from being a bustling metropolis. 

Cera's sneakers hit the ground gently as she ambled across the pavement. Tonight, she'd be hosting a cocktail party that may or may not be attended by the one and only Carl Manfred. She had adored his work for as long as she could remember. The way he managed to capture what he saw around him and within the world was... quite honestly astonishing. And tonight, she might watch him utterly destroy or make her dreams come true. She was brimming with nerves This could make or break her.

Cera had been setting up a debut of a new set of canvas paintings in the 'Carrolinous Gallery of Unique Arts'. Said gallery also held a vast Manfred collection that she'd gazed at for longer than she'd care to admit. But she never thought he'd be put on the guest list by the curator. He's often escorted by a tall android who goes by the name of Markus. Cera had never met him, but some of her more successful friends told her about him. He was soft spoken, gentle and had a very calming nature. Growing up in Florida towards the start of the Android craze, Cera had never cared for them. Well, that's a complete lie. Cera ADORED Androids, she'd always had a fascination over robotics. She thought Elija Kamski's creations were fascinating people. But, that was the difference wasn't it? She'd always considered them far more than most people wanted to. Even in their early stages, when Kamski would parade his latest prototypes to the world, she saw them as... people. It was unbelievably unsettling to watch them be bought and sold. It left a sour taste in her mouth. 

She swore to never own an Android. It felt so wrong, to have a slave in your home. Someone who cooked, cleaned and did everything while getting nothing in return. Being treated like dirt, like objects. Every Android she met, she treated with as much respect as she would any other person. People thought she was weird because of it but Cera just thought it made sense. You can't build an entire new race of people and then treat them like that, it was disgusting. It reminded her of when parents treat their children like burdens, children who never asked to be born. Androids weren't asked to be made, they had no control over it. 

The music in her earbuds blocked out everything around her, she focused on the feeling of the wind and the way little drops of water kicked up from her shoes as she walked across the wet pavement. Cera was trying to calm herself down before the party tonight, she didn't want to be too het up when she got there, or it'd be a disaster. She had her methods, but she found a soothing walk just before she needed to get ready helped, most of the time, to drown out all the other noise before she'd have to face a room full of very loud, very nosy people. "Serves me right for being in the art industry. These things need to happen if I want to get my work out there." She mumbled to herself, only just hearing herself above her music. 

Getting ready for the party was... interesting. It was a constant cycle of checking the clock, looking at the outfit she'd laid out for herself, reconsidering, asking Erica what she thought and then rinse and repeat. She huffed her bangs out of her face as she noticed the time was drawing far too close to be able to mull this over for much longer. Cera wasn't a very fashion-centered person, yet she knew making a good first impression at these types of socials was stupidly important. Yes, a lot of the art world were obsessed with personal image. She figured her art should speak for herself, but the reality of the situation meant she needed to be at least somewhat presentable. She eventually settled on a sleek red cocktail dress and some comfortable flats. Parties were uncomfortable anyway, why make her feet suffer? It was an hour before the guests were scheduled to start arriving and the curator wanted her there early so she could have a final say on the structure of the showcase; and make any last minute changes she felt necessary. She ran a hand through her dark hair, smiling at how the white tuft at the front sloped over her eyes. Cera huffed, looking herself over in the mirror. Tonight was the night.

The night she'd have to stand and watch her life-long idol scrutinize her work and most likely belittle it. Would he do it to her face? Surely not. Would he trash talk her to other artists? She let out a shuddering breath, realizing she'd been holding it in. He's not like that, surely? But then, who really knows their idols. People can have the sweetest, most distinguished outer persona but really just be monsters in disguise. She reached to her wrist where an intricate bracelet sat. It was made from strong strips of leather, stained black and swerving in-between each other in a tight weave. Speckles of red ran through it like stars in the evening sky. She fiddled with it, rolling it between her fingers as she nodded. 

She settled into the back of the autonomous taxi alongside her best friend and roommate, who was furiously typing on her phone. "Getting into another fight?" She asked her, chuckling. Erica looked up at her with a steely determination. "No, I'm proving someone wrong." Cera rolled her eyes at her friend, knowing she'd be getting an earful on just who this person was and why they were the embodiment of Satan. Erica was sometimes a handful. She was very energetic and had a strong character, someone who wasn't afraid of confrontation. Her background in Biology meant she could argue and have the facts to back it up at arm's reach. This could be useful whenever someone decided to mindlessly harass Cera over a piece of her art they didn't like, but it could get a little much at times. She loved her though, she was the person to get her away from her family, who sheltered and fed her in her worst days. She, who paid for her art supplies and never stopped supporting her when she pursued her love while demanding nothing in return. 

The taxi coming to a stop snapped Cera out of her dream-like reminiscing and the tight knot of nerves in the pit of her stomach quickly made a return. 

The inside of the Gallery was _incredible._  

It was made from a repurposed Cathedral, huge panes of stained glass depicting the stories from its long-abandoned purpose decorating the inside. The company who had renovated the Cathedral refused to take them out, wanting to respect the building's history; creating an art exhibit from the building itself. The different rooms held exhibits for various artists and mediums. Sculptures, digital art, wool crafts, paintings, you name it. It was probably why Carl Manfred liked to display his work here, he never did enjoy the norm. The inside of the Gallery was awe inspiring. The huge main room was where they held their current exhibits and today, Cera's art was front and center. She had to stop the tears that brimmed at her eyes from falling. 'I'm finally getting somewhere.' She thought, a rush of emotions overwhelming her for a moment at how far she'd come. 

Thankfully the Gallery had done a good job at organizing her works the way she'd planned and Cera didn't have to make any drastic last-minute changes to the set-up. It was around 7:45pm that guests started to filter in. The event technically started at 8pm but there were those who wanted to get in early before the bustle. Cera fiddled with her fingers as she looked at who was filing in. She recognized a few people but she couldn't bring herself to try and make that kind of small talk. This was already becoming hard, but she had to push through. She pushed her bangs back a couple times, catching the stray strands that tried to escape as she watched people survey the pieces she'd spent a year preparing. The canvases that told more about her than these people could ever see. She wasn't stupid, she knew many of the people here weren't interested in the art she had to offer, only what they could make selling it. Wasn't that the dream? To be successful, loved, in homes and galleries across the world?

Cera's eyes drew towards the entrance where she heard comfortable chatter and a painfully familliar voice. A lump formed in her throat and she turned towards one of her own pieces, trying desperately to act as if she were surveying the brush strokes.

"Agather, thank you for letting me know about this. I'm always pleased to see these up and coming kids and what they're coming up with. Keeps this old man feeling hopeful." Carl smiled up at the curator of the Gallery, a soft-spoken woman with fading grey hair. Her cheeks were always rosy, and she gave off a very motherly aura, it was incredibly calming. She bent down to kiss Carl's cheek. "Oh, hush you. We wouldn't dream of keeping you locked in that studio of yours, come!" Agather ushered both Carl and Markus forward into the room. Markus pushed Carl's wheelchair silently. His eyes flickered to the various pieces dotted around the room and he smiled, seeing the clear inspiration that had been taken from Carl's work. While his Master may always claim to hate these types of parties, he couldn't deny it was lovely to see those who admired his work. Carl had inspired so many artists, young and old, and Markus knew that secretly he loved these gatherings. It was the events that his own work was the highlight that bothered him. So many people simply wanting to try and cash in on Carl's popularity. 

"Cera! Cera dear, I wanted to introduce you!" Agather's voice pierced Cera's mind like a bolt of lightning. The sweet woman was not the problem, it was who she knew she was with. Cera attempted to compose herself before she turned around, offering a polite smile. She couldn't help the hitch in her breath and her eyes widening as she found herself mere feet away from her idol. He looked so casual, confident even. This was something he did all the time, why would he be nervous? "Carl, this is Cera. She's one of our newest exhibiting artists. This is her debut! Cera Stark, this is Carl Manfred, a-" 

"I know! Um- I mean, I uh, I'm very fond of your work, Mr. Manfred. You've been a huge inspiration to me, ever since I was small." She tried to get her words out in some sort of sensible fashion but it all ended up being rushed and shaky. Though she did have to commend herself on it being somewhat intelligible. She held her hands out, and Carl smiled up at her as he shook it, she felt her heart stop. "Thank you very much my dear, that's very humbling to hear." She desperately fiddled with her bracelet, trying to calm her rapid heartbeat. "I was interested in seeing what you youngsters were putting out into the world. Our world is built on the innovation of the young, not the traditions of the old. That's real progress." Cera smiled as a wave of relief washed over her. Carl didn't seem to be like the other stuffy artists she'd met. He hadn't let age wash over his fiery love for his craft like so many others. "I always loved to create things, e-even from when I was young. I never imagined I could end up her-" She gestured at the grand building they were stood in. "-I think 12-year-old me is having a party at the moment." She let out a nervous laugh, trying to hide how her hands shook. She looked up to Markus who was giving her a patient smile, his eyes looking... no. Was it? They just seemed to hold so much more... emotion than the other androids she'd met did. Come to think of it, she couldn't think of anywhere she'd seen this model before. She extended her hand out to Markus. "Nice to meet you as well, um, I-I'm sorry I didn't get your name." The hot sting of embarrassed hit her for not learning the name of the Android of HER IDOL, GODDAMN IT. She was sure she knew his name, but it escaped her like when you're chasing a hat in the wind. So close but always one step ahead. His smile flickered to a look of confusion for a moment before he composed himself, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. "My name is Markus, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." WOW his voice was soothing. It was like auditory silk and Cera felt a blush creep up on her. 

The three were interrupted by the sound of someone tapping on a microphone to test if it works, followed by Agather's energetic voice. 

"Thank you, everyone for attending tonight's debut exhibit. We have some excellent pieces tonight. A special thank you to Carl Manfred for sponsoring our gallery. We wouldn't be anywhere without the incredible people who put blood, sweat and tears into keeping this establishment together. Without further ado, please welcome Cera Stark!" 

_Oh_ _Jesus Christ that was her queue._

She smiled politely at Carl and Markus before attempting to weave her way through the maze of people. Agather was stood in front of three of Cera's best paintings holding a microphone and looking at her expectantly. She slid up to the older woman and took the microphone, trying desperately to rehears her speech again in her head, delaying the inevitable for as long as she could. Before she knew it, she was stood alone in front of a crowd of people, including her idol. 

_Here goes nothing._

"From the first day I could pick up a pencil, I knew this was what I wanted to be. The world we live in doesn't offer a lot of control... We have rules. Rules for everything it seems. But, when I paint..." Oh god she was shaking, no, she couldn't let the wavering enter her voice. Appearance, presentation, that's what these people were looking for. She scanned the crowd and in the split second that she paused, her eyes found the gentle green ones of Markus. He had wheeled Carl close to the front of the crowd and was nodding at her, encouraging her to continue. The overboiling pot of nerves she'd become began to slow into a simmer. "When I paint, I am in control. People will try to tell you there are rules when it comes to art, force you even; to follow them. But there aren't any. Art is free, it's... It's a comfort, in many ways." She paused again, adjusting her feet and smiling across the crowd. Smiling is important, keep doing that. She thought to herself. "Tonight's pieces I present to you are the fruits of difficult, troubling times in my life. I don't celebrate them, I celebrate myself. My struggles are my own and I dealt with them. I'm still here, they didn't get the best of me. These paintings are a commemoration to my own strength, and I thank you all so much for coming to see them. Art is the thing that has always inspired me to be better, be it famous, well known masters of their trade-" She took a moment to smile down at Carl, who returned it in kind. "-or simply anonymous graffiti on an abandoned building. I am always inspired." A rupturing applause broke Cera out of her dream-like state. 

Her cheeks tinted pink as Agather came to her side to give her a hug. She accepted it, despite not particularly wanting to be touched at the moment. She was filled with adrenalin at what she'd just accomplished. She never dreamed she'd ever be so lucky or brave to speak to a room of people about her art. 

The night was a blur. Cera's brain went into autopilot as she was approached by various artists and curators, offering her their thoughts on her pieces. She did listen, to the best that she could. The constant chattering noise of the room acted like a white noise machine. Everything was so loud, she could hear every tiny thing. Someone accidentally clinking a glass against another as they go to pick it up, the rustling of clothes as someone reaches for a handkerchief in their pocket. The chinking of jewelry when someone tilted their head to consider the piece they were looking at.

Cera was stood in a more secluded part of the huge room, holding a cup of water as she desperately tried to ground herself. Footsteps were muffled through the sea of noise, but the gentle touch on her shoulder caused her to lurch backwards. She turned to see Markus looking down at her with concern. "I'm very sorry if frightened you. Carl asked me to ask you to come see him, so he could ask you some questions about one of your pieces." Cera gulped, tapping her leg absentmindedly. "Oh! Yes, sorry. I was in my own world. Lead the way!" She couldn't help the shakiness of her voice and she cursed herself for being so jumpy. Why did parties have to be so hard for her?

He smiled down at her and she could feel herself calming down, if just a little bit. 

Markus walked effortlessly through the various people dotted around the exhibit before Cera could see Carl in front of one of her pieces. Her breathing hitched, it was the one she'd made just after...

"Art is so interesting. People can debate the meaning behind an artist's works for decades, but unless you actually ask the artist, you'll never really know. I could assume a million things about you from this one painting, but I doubt I'd be right. So, tell me my dear. What went into making this one, if you don't mind me asking?" He turned his wheelchair so that he was facing her, a look of happy curiosity dancing across his face. Cera drew in a shaky breath. 

"I was h-homeless for a time. I didn't have..." She fiddled with her bracelet. She couldn't lie to Carl Manfred, but this was a hard subject to approach. "I didn't really have anywhere that I felt safe. It was a difficult time. My friend Erika... she kept me going." Her mind raced back to those nights... Nights where she couldn't sleep because it was so cold, nights where she was sure she'd never find a home again, night where... she gave up. "She offered me a place, here in Detroit. This..." She gestured to the painting. "Was the first painting I made after I found myself in D-Detroit." The lump in her throat didn't fail to leave her, the memories flooding her. 

"That's very powerful." Carl simply said, his eyes scanning over the canvas. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that your struggle is what made you. Yes, struggle is what sometimes shapes us into who we are, but you clearly have a lot of talent. You turned a horrible situation into something you could master. Never let them tell you that you needed that struggle to build you, you would have gotten here without it." The sparkle in his eyes made Cera smile. Carl Manfred was truly a wonderful man, who managed to bring tears to her eyes over something SHE'D painted. He told HER that SHE had talent. She wanted to hug him and tell him how much that meant to him, but instead she opted for the brightest smile she could muster. "Thank you, Mr. Manfred, there are no words to describe how much that means to me." He nodded, turning back to the painting. "What do you think, Markus?" That made Cera stop in her tracks. She'd never heard anyone ask an Android what they thought before. Markus scanned his green eyes over the painting, his LED blinking as he seemed to take his time to analyze what was before him. "There's a powerful emotion behind this, as you've clearly stated. But you don't have to know that to see that this painting holds extraordinary value." He turned to look at her. "Not monetary, emotional." His gaze was back on the painting. "Though of course I'm sure many will be happy to have this in their home." 

Cera held her hands behind her back, fiddling with her bracelet again. She couldn't quite fathom what he had said. Did Carl tell him to say that? A million thoughts ran through her head and she realized she'd been staring at him. "Thank you very much, that's really sweet of you Markus." She exchanged fiddling with her bracelet to lightly tapping her leg again. "Let's hope everyone else here have the same opinions!" She let out a laugh. Surprisingly, being around Carl and Markus was far more calming than she thought it would be. She doesn't feel she needs to impress anyone like when she talks to other people she's met at these things. Maybe he hated these as much as she did? 

The rest of the evening was as she expected it to be. People sidled up to her to network. They complimented her art in the way they thought she wanted. She enjoyed the praise, of course, but it was hard to take it in when you knew the people giving it likely didn't mean it. They simply wanted to see if they could try and squeeze money out of her. 

Carl and Markus stayed for a few hours, but for much less than she'd like. She said goodbye, offering a sincere smile at the both of them. They managed to make this evening far more enjoyable than it could have been, and shit. Markus probably unknowingly saved her from a terrible presentation and barrels of embarrassment. She wished she knew them well enough to thank them with a gift, but hopefully she'd see them again. 

However, this wasn't the case.

This would be the first and last time that Cera would meet Markus, as he was then.

Before he went Deviant.

**Author's Note:**

> FOOF There we are. That was a doozy, took me a while to push through the writers block that threatened my very existence every few paragraphs PDFTFPTP but there we are :D


End file.
